


After Dark

by Willowanderer



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Death, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Recovery, Smoking, non graphic sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11874522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowanderer/pseuds/Willowanderer
Summary: This was written in 2007, originally posted on Y!Gallery.  As such it was far before any real information and largely conjecture.===================The transition between Somebody and Nobody was difficult to take. Especially for the first of them.or rather, especially for the second.





	1. Chapter 1

It hadn't been more than a month or two, and the darkness still felt raw inside them. Predictably, it was Ienzo who noticed.  
“We're not aging.”  
“What?”  
“We're not getting any older. Not growing. Well, I'm not.”  
“Do you grow so much in a month?”  
“I was hoping, and yes, yes I do. If you'd noticed, I'd been hitting a growth spurt when it happened. I'd put on a half inch.”   
Blankly, they all stared at the young man.   
“I noticed.” Lexaeus told his friend loyally.   
“The point is,” the slate haired boy went on. “I haven't grown any since.”  
“Not to point out the obvious, Ienzo.” they jumped, and turned to see Xehanort- no, he wanted to be called Ansem now; like it was a title, not a name- leaning against the doorframe. “But you're -dead-. You died. Your heart was ripped out and devoured by a monster.” he looked around the room, amber eyes making eye contact with each of them before continuing. “We are all dead men, here.”   
“I'm going to be in puberty for the rest of my life!”  
“Are you paying attention?” the dusky skinned man yelped, clearly frustrated. The changes the accident had wrought in all of them were not as obvious in him, but they were all sure they were there.  
And no, no one was paying attention.  
“Don't worry, Ien.” Braig patted the boy. “Other than that last growth spurt, I mean, you were mostly done, I mean, your balls dropped and your voice changed. Unless you're Dilan, how important is facial hair, anyway?”   
“Would have liked the chance to find out.” muttered the boy, pushing hair out of his eyes, and slumping into a chair. It was, sadly, just starting to sink in. 

 

Xehanort's experiment, which they had allied themselves with, perhaps somewhat against their better judgment had gone beautifully well.... then horribly wrong.   
The gate to darkness, the heartless, it had all been too much.   
“People who think themselves wise are fools.”  
That was the first thing Braig had heard upon awakening. He stared up at the stary sky and felt... empty. Terribly empty. Then he remembered the heartless overwhelming him, and wanted to feel terrified. He remembered feeling the terror overtake him. But he only felt ... numb. That couldn't be right. He pulled the remembered feeling of terror close to him, shored it up with a scrap of the annoyance he knew he should feel at the bland statement.  
“I hope that's internlized, Nort.” The hollow feeling in his chest seemed to make moving eaiser at least, leaping to his feet was as effortless as it had been as a young reckless punk. Hair falling about his face, he turned to face the speaker. They were on a beach, with what looked like the ruins of a castle in the far distance, and there was no moon, just stars.  
“Oh don't bluster, Braig.” the amber-eyed man looked over the night darkened ocean. “It isn't worth the effort to care.”  
“Where is everyone else? Even? Dilly? Aeleus and the kid?”  
“I'm waiting.” his skin seemed a touch paler, and under the starlight, his hair glowed brighter than ever.  
“What for?”  
“To see.”  
“Nort, I'm gonna...”   
“There-” one dusky skinned hand pointed. “I think it's Dilan.”   
Squinting into the dark, Braig saw the dark form that Xehanort pointed to.   
“You should get him out of the water.”  
Glaring as forcefully as a man with one eye could, he did, hissing as he ran into the icy salt water, looping his arms under those of his taller friend. Funny. There didn't seem to be an urgency; though he was trying to remember why Dilan's clothes would be half ripped off. His braids were unpinned from their intricate coils, and floating in the water all around his head like some sort of tangled water-weed. No, that part was sea weed. He flicked it off, and kept hauling as a wave broke over their heads.   
Braig shouldn't have been able to move Dilan once they were out of the water. The other man was much more solidly built, as well as being taller by several inches, but that didn't seem to really be affecting things. Hauling him past the breaking waves, he checked for breathing, then pressed his ear to the other man's broad chest. There wasn't any heartbeat... which was odd, because he could have sworn he saw a pulse.   
“Oh do- Nort, he's dead.”  
“Is he?” the silver haired man seemed uninterested, looking at the ocean again. “I wonder who else will come.”  
Before Braig could assemble appropriate annoyance at the other man's lack of emotion at the apparent death of his, perhaps, best friend, Dilan coughed. Once, twice, then he sat up, sweeping thick black tendrils of hair out of his eyes.   
“What happened?”   
The surprise he felt at Dilan's apparent resurrection was far away, and faint.  
“I don't know.”   
“Huh.” Looking up and down the beach, Dilan shook his head. “We're miles from the Garden. Something must have happened.” A breeze whipped up and down he beach, blowing sand all over them, and making their hair move, drying it. Even the cold seemed far away.   
“Nort, do you know what happened?”  
“I'm sure you'll remember eventually.” He rested his chin on his crossed arms and continued to look out to the sea. “It's something that sticks with you.”   
The breeze was cold, colder than it had any right to be, and the two dark haired men leaned against each other, half lost in thought, trying to recall what had happened; how they had ended up here.   
“Oh...” a voice came out of the dark, and Braig was on his feet in an instant, wary for attack. “Do any of you know why we're alive?” the voice was familiar, as was the form that came out of the dark, though his pale hair was tumbled down from it's habitual braid to frame his face.  
“Even!” Braig threw his arms around the taller blond, checking him for damage. His clothes were torn, though not as tattered as Dilan's. Or for that matter, his. He hadn't even realized what shape the clothes he was wearing were in until he pressed against the chilled flesh of the boney blond.   
“Damn you're freezing!”  
“Am I?”   
“C'mon.” He drew the other man over to where he and Dilan had been siting and sandwiched the other man in between him. Dilan shivered when Even touched his skin. “He's freezing Dil, he just doesn't have enough flesh to keep himself warm.” It sounded odd, flat... he didn't feel any concern really, but he knew he should so he said it and did it anyway.   
“What are we doing?” asked Even after a long moment.   
“Waiting, I guess. I dunno. I just woke up here.”  
“For what?”  
“At this point? Probably for Aeleus and Ien.”   
“But how did we survive?” Suddenly a flash of emotion moved across the other man's drawn face and he groped in the sand and threw something- (a lump of ice? Was it that cold?) at the back of Xehnort's head. “What made you think making MORE of those things was a good idea, idiot!?”  
Blandly, the silver haired man turned and looked at the huddled pile of apprentices.   
“You agreed.”   
“I agreed to study them, not make more! Or did they rip out your brain, instead of your heart, you foolish, stupid, pointless pretty-boy!”   
“are you done?” Xehanort sounded tired. “Did that make you feel any better, Even?”   
“No.” the blond turned his face, and buried it in Dilan's loosened braids. “I don't know if I'll ever feel better.”   
They waited for what seemed like hours before Aeleus appeared, hair swept back from his face and stiffened with dried salt water, the still unconscious form of Ienzo in his arms.  
“He won't wake up.” the large man said, softly.   
“Well, he either will or he won't.” Xehanort said blandly, and came to his feet. “We should be getting back.”  
“What about Master Ansem?” Even asked queriously, peering near sightly up and down the beach. “Didn't you say he was still in the Garden too? What if what happened to us happened to him?”  
“Don't worry.” the silver haired man said hollowly, as the sun began to peer over the horizon. “He's well out of it.”

 

“I think we need new names.”  
“What?” Braig looked up from the table, and the half-assembled Heartless trap he was working on.   
“We're not who we were, we shouldn't call ourselves by our old names.” Ienzo frowned, and tipped his chin, looking out from beneath his sheltering fringe of hair. “I don't want what I'm doing now to be locked onto Ienzo. He never did anything to deserve it.”  
“But we are still us.” Dilan retorted, purple eyes still cloudy, despite the fact it was clear the conversation was interesting him for a change, he didn't move from where he was stretched full length on a nearby sofa. “You shouldn't talk as though we're dead.”  
“Well, since we aren't what we were, we're like... our own exes or something.” Braig offered, trying to make it a joke.   
“Exes? God, you're vulgar.”  
“And you're still prissy, Icecu-” Braig squealed as ice enclosed a tender portion of his anatomy. Even smirked slightly.   
“I told you to stop calling me that.”  
“Anagrams.” Suggested Aeleus. He had been sitting in an armchair across the room, a book spread in his lap.  
“What?”  
“Make new names out of the old.” He subsided, having given his opinion.   
“And use the letter X to indicate a strike through.”  
“Are you sure you're not just trying to make it harder, Ien?” Braig demanded. “How many names have 'x's in them.”   
“It's not like we need real names. We're not real people anymore.” Ienzo muttered.  
“Can't do it?” Aeleus chided. “Words aren't your specialty after all.”  
“What would you call yourself?”  
The alburn haired man thought for a moment. “ 'Lexaeus'.”  
“Show off.”   
“A 'v' and an 'x'” Even shook his head. “A challenge.”  
“You like this idea?”  
“It has merit. Anyhow, this will allow us to pass some time.”  
“I've got a 'z'.” Ienzo retorted.  
“Plenty of vowels, though.” Dilan offered.  
“Not you too, Dilly...”  
“I could pick a name for you, if you'd like.” the larger man offered, head raising from where it had been draped over the side of the couch. “If you can't think of anything.”   
“What about Nort?” The one eyed man said finally, after watching his companions think for several long moments. “He's already got an X in his name.”  
“No he doesn't.” Ienzo sighed, looking at his nails. “After all, he's Ansem now...”  
“He's [u]not[/u] Ansem.” snapped both Braig and Even at the same time. They glanced at eachother, and chose to ignore the fact they had acted in tandem. Braig suddenly started laughing, covering his face with a hand.   
“What?”  
“I can't make up random things and see how they sound, but if ya add 'x' to the letters in 'Ansem' you can get 'Man Sex.'” he laughed. It felt hollow, but better somehow. The more he forced emotions the steadier he felt. “We could call him that instead.”   
“I wouldn't answer.” That ability to just suddenly appear, silently, and to have apparently been there for some time was getting pretty irritating. Braig wondered what kind of elemental ability THAT was. 

 

The Radiant Garden complex was in ruins, dust and grime settled over everything and the town below looking tattered. Braig stared in dismay at his favorite bar, the doors locked tight and marred with deep furrowed scratches- above them on the second floor a shutter flapped forlornly in the wind.  
“I smell blood.”   
They all stopped in place, turning to see Ienzo waking up in the reddish dawn light. He looked pale, and washed out, but his eyes were dark and haunted. Shoving away from Aeleus's chest, he wordlessly demanded to be put down, which his friend complied with. “My family-”  
“Are most likely dead, Ienzo.” The rich voice of Xehanort came from further up the street.   
“Oh.” He looked disturbed by something and clutched at his chest. “Aeleus...” he said quietly in a voice so small as to be lost. The larger man rested his hands on the boy's shoulders. “Why aren't I afraid for them?”   
Braig sprinted forward and grabbed Xehanort's shoulder, spinning him around, gold eye meeting amber “Dude, man, have some care, huh? I mean, just 'cuz you're not from around here...”  
“Do you feel anything?”  
“... No, not really, Figure it's shock. What happened?”  
“You'll remember in time. We should see what we can salvage of the labs.” Shaking free he continued up the road.  
“You don't want to remember.” Even cautioned, following along, going past where Braig stood staring. The others went past in a ragged line, and he simply stayed thinking. What had happened when the experiment had gone wrong? The others turned a corner and left him behind. The light got brighter, and brighter as the sun rose. He shook his head, getting long silver striped hair in his eyes, wondering at the way the dawn light robbed his hair of color, turning the rich brown black. As he retied it, he heard a scream. As full of terror as it was, it didn't inspire anything but curiosity, but that was enough to send him whipping around the corner. A young woman was fleeing from inky toddler sized creatures- Heartless, escaped from the lab no doubt. Was that what had happened? Still screaming, she ran into a half destroyed building- and it began to shift as the heartless started climb all over it to get to her.   
Belatedly, Braig realized he should do something, and looked around for some sort of weapon. The experiment was over. He never wanted to see another damn Heartless again. Something in him snapped, and focused, and he had a weapon a weapon that felt like it was part of him.   
“Go Away!” He bellowed, plowing into the crowd of heartless, wounding some, but the rest, to his surprise did go away. Braig stared at the weapons in his hands for a long moment, then went to tuck the strange guns into his belt, only to have them disappear. A loud crash and another scream caught his attention and he stuck his head into the building.  
“I know you.” he said almost surprised. “You used to serve me beer.”   
“Get away from me! Monster!”  
“Hey, that's not called for- I mean, I'm not looking so pretty right now, but-” the girl thrust away from him and crashed a beam, which came crashing down on top of both of them.  
“No!” Throwing up his hands, he felt the same drawn tight and then snapping sensation and-  
He was in his room at the Radiant Garden.  
“What just happened?” 

 

“Xigbar.”  
He turned another page, and made a notation in the margin, tapping his pen idly against his teeth.   
“Xigbar.” Suddenly he remembered that that was his name now, and grimaced.   
“What's up, Man Sex?”   
The gray haired man sighed, but didn't rise to the bait. “You need to stop going into town. We don't need supplies, there's plenty left in storage, but I don't think that goading them into attacking the complex is a good idea.”  
“I don't think lots of stuff we're doing is a good idea.” He shut the book he'd been reading. “If I don't get out of here sometimes, I'm going to go crazy.”   
“No one else feels the need to leave.”  
“Dil- Xaldin doesn't feel the need to leave the [i]couch[/i] most days, and Even- I mean, Vexen's hiding.” He crossed his arms. “Somehow, I don't think they're stellar examples of people who feel the need to get out.”   
“I'm serious, Xigbar. If you feel the need to leave, don't let normal people see you. They'll only shun you for your lack of a heart.”  
“Dude, we can't live out the rest of our lives away from everyone else.”   
“No... I suppose we can't.”   
“But d'ya know what they're calling this place now? A Hollow Bastion. A shell of itself. The town too.”  
“Are they?”  
“And it doesn't shine any more. The light's gone. It's like the heartless ate the heart of the place. It's dying.”   
“Really, Xigbar.” the other man scoffed and turned away to leave. “Sometimes your degree in philosophy shows.” 

 

The first few days were the worst, really. Trying to find enough to survive in the ruins of the Garden complex. It was especially nasty after Aeleus and Xehanort managed to access the computer, and found out they were missing almost a week between the time they had conducted the experiment and returned to the wreckage. Adjusting to the fact that none of them even looked quite right, or felt quite right. It was little things, a brightness to Even's eyes, no longer hidden behind glasses. That Ienzo's hair was grey-ish blue instead of blue black. The way no amount of combing would get Aeleus's hair to lay flat. The cold, defeated way Dilan talked, his braids twisted into rough ropes instead of sleek cords.   
And of course, the powers.  
It took someone else 'teleporting' before Braig admitted what happened in town. The weapons. The Heartless. The girl. The sudden snap that sent him back to the Garden. And they all stared at him, until something snapped again, and he remembered.   
And the worst part was, he couldn't even really feel panicked about it. 

 

He still smoked, though his new found understanding that the laws of gravity were no more than suggestions to him gave him new and interesting places to do it.  
And a nearly unprecedented chance to be a voyeur, he discovered. Not that there was much to see. Pacing the outside of the thick stone walls, he heard a voice, and paused, sitting down beside the window to listen. He should feel shame, but he didn't, of course. He didn't feel anything, and this he didn't feel the need to supply anything for.   
“It doesn't matter, don't you see?” Ienzo- no Zexion's voice rose hysterically, showing emotion, however fake for the first time in months. “Don't turn me away Lexaeus, I need something to hold -on-to.”  
“I'd never turn you away, Ienzo.” rumbled the other man's voice. Curious, he rolled on his side and peered around the edge of the window, as the younger man continued his borderline hysterics.  
“It doesn't matter how old I am, because I'm never going to -get- older. I want this, you want this;” a pause “You do still want...” the rest of the sentence was crushed out of him by strong arms, silenced with lips that didn't see the need to form words.   
“No hearts huh.” Xigbar stared at the sky, part of him uncaring at the sounds now emerging, part of him almost jealous. With Xaldin depressed, and Vexen fitting better and better into the nickname of 'icecube' he'd once given him, he was pretty alone. Those two seemed to be working it out without hearts, focusing on bodies instead, and they still had those. Groins, certainly. He'd had morning wood like a frickin' redwood the other day. He lit another cigarette and leaned back against the wall.   
Blood still pumped, the chemicals that made their minds work flowed, the chi that made magic work functioned, the only thing that was missing was the emotion. And he had always tried to keep that out of sex anyway. Friendship was friendship, and fucking was fucking, and those two meeting were awesome, but not really necessary. His mind dismissed the fact that he hadn't messed around with anyone but friends in years, focusing instead on the fact that he hadn't messed around with anybody since days before the accident. Thinking about that, combined with the noises from inside the window made him ache, and he reviewed his options. He could masturbate; again, or he could try to corner Vexen and see if he could still melt the ice cube now that he had actual physical chill to back him up, or he could try and get some sort of reaction out of Dilan, or even try to get some Man Sex. The idea made him laugh, and he dropped off the wall as the inhabitants of the room realized they had an audience.

 

“Xehanort I'm sick of this; where is Master Ansem!?” Even's sudden outbursts hadn't gone away with his loss of a heart. He still stewed things over until they came out in furious spurts. “If he had died in the accident, we would have found something by now.”  
“He wasn't in the complex.”  
“Where would he have gone?”  
the expression on the dusky-skinned man's face is very nearly a smile. “I sent him ahead of us, into the dark.”  
“You [u]killed[/u] him?”   
For an instant, he looks hurt- almost shocked that anyone would suggested that he would do such a thing, but then the almost smile is back.   
“I sent him away from his fear, by thrusting him into it.”   
“You killed him.” Dilan buried his face in his hands. Part of him had been hoping that the Wise man they had worked under would appear, forgive them their inappropriate curiosity, and have a solution for their predicament. “Damn...”  
“Dilan, do not worry. We have done what he did not dare; we will find our own solution.”   
“What happens when someone comes looking for him?”  
“Then I will be Ansem.”  
“You're a loony!”   
“It's a simple magic to make people forget such a trivial thing that anyone else ever went by the name Ansem.” the man's amber eyes were brilliant.  
“We will not forget.” Even pointed out, lips drawn into a thin line.   
“None the less.” he gave a dismissive gesture, and stared them all down. “I will be Ansem from now on.”   
It was wrong really. One of them should do something, do anything.  
But not one of them did. 

 

Even in the ruined complex, the ceilings were much higher than they needed to be, and Xigbar took advantage of it, walking along them instead of the floor. He could get like this, at least. Except for the distance that everything he had liked about life was at, and the way other people treated him, being seeped in darkness wasn't such a bad deal. Except that it was lonely. Stupid to be lonely in a house full of people he once considered friends. Stupid to be lonely when he wasn't lonely, it just seemed that he should be. He'd heard Zexion and Lexaeus again, talking in hushed whispers, faces close together. What was sex like without emotions? He wanted to ask, but he didn't quite dare, not out of courtesy, so much as a concern for his physical well being. Aeleus had trained himself to be calm in every situation; a side effect of growing up well... bigger than everyone else. Lexaeus might not share the same concerns. He shook his head and tossed his hands up- or rather down in disgust. He was doing it now, talking like they were different people. And yeah, maybe they were different, but they weren't different people, just people who were different. He growled, and dug in his pocket for smokes. Screw Mansex, anyway, the one thing that wasn't in the stores were those, and he needed them. It was physical.  
His grip on his personal gravity was great, but when the pack of cigarettes slipped through is fingers and fell upward toward the floor, there wasn't much he could do.   
“The hell?”   
Xigbar had to grin.   
“What are you doing up there?” Dilan had apparently actually gotten up from the couch, only to be hit by the falling cigarettes.   
“Hey Dilly. How'd you like my new trick?”  
“I thought that we agreed we would use the 'x' code names.” the purple eyed man said blandly, looking up at the other man and added- “Xigbar”  
“You want to be called Xaldin?” He smirked “Make me.” It was baiting, pure and simple. Get a reaction; even before they'd lost their hearts he loved to do that. Now it was even better. Somehow it seemed necessary, even.   
“You don't want me to do that.”   
He gave a sharp grin, like a crack into madness. “As if you could.” He felt the wind rush past him, whipping his hair and shirttails out behind him, hard enough that his eye watered. “That all you got, Daffy-Dilly? I don't think you'll be making me do anything at this rate.”   
Intense blue-violet eyes glared up at him, displaying some of their old fire. Wind gathered, spinning around, the long textured lengths of hair dancing and slowly, the stocky figure rose from the ground, until he was eye level with the other man.   
“Who said I would want to?”  
“Didn't you just? You want me to call you Xaldin.” he rolled his eye comically. “That sounds like you want to make me do something alright.”  
“You are baiting me. It sounds as though you want to make me do something.”   
“Anything.” Corrected Xigbar, looking up; at his cigarettes which were still on the floor. “You couldn't have brought them with you?”   
the other man looked down as well, then up at Xigbar's upside-down face, hair still dancing on the wind that held him aloft.  
“You know the rule. I don't give you back anything you throw at my head.”   
“Really?” He flipped in place, and wrapped his legs around Xaldin's waist, crushing his lips to the other man's, in a brutal kiss.   
His concentration broke; and Xigbar could felt the ground coming up to them, horribly fast; and space bent, and they crashed down onto the couch instead- the larger, more muscular man on the bottom.  
“Uhgh.” For whatever reason, Dilan had always been susceptible to having the wind knocked out of him, and ironically, it was even worse now, and he sucked air desperately “What was that?”   
“I've been learning a lot.” the one eyed muttered. “But that's not what this is about.”  
“Oh?” his friend looked up at him. “What is it about?”   
“This...” he ground his hips forward, displaying his arousal and pressed forward further, forcing his tongue into Xaldin's mouth. For a moment, they melded together, almost as perfectly as they ever had, then Xaldin pushed him away, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.   
“Don't be stupid.” he panted. “What good will this do? We can't [i]feel[/i] anything.”  
“So you don't feel this?” Xigbar slid his hand into the other man's shirt, and stroked his fingers across a nipple, returning to pinch it. The dreadlocked man exhaled suddenly, sharply. Threading one leg between the larger man's Xigbar rubbed it against his groin. “or this?” He leaned over his friend, and brushed his lips against his again, teasing before he plunged into a harsher, bruising contact.   
“Why are you doing this?” the question was breathless, but he wasn't being pushed away.   
“Because I need it.”   
Hands clenched onto Xigbar's ass with almost bruising force, yanking him tightly against the other man.  
“I need it too.” 

 

No one did come; clearly believing that everyone in the complex had died in the explosion and subsequent attack of heartless. Which was, of course, more or less true. Xigbar didn't stop going into town, though he did discover a basic truth of life- no one ever looked up. He brought back news, for instance that the castle was now thought to be haunted, as well as cursed. The world was fraying at the edges, and people disappearing even without aid of a heartless attack. The world, not just the city, was dying of it's infestation with heartless. 

Even without a heart it was depressing. 

“I've lived here my entire life;” Vexen looked out over the dissolving landscape, then up at the sky, with blank spots in the appearing consolations. “And now I suppose we will fade with it.”   
“Cheery thought, icecube.” Xigbar exhaled a plume of smoke, just glad that he'd managed to pry the other man out of the labs. He hadn't left in weeks, and was starting to look a little more than usually pale and drawn. Darkness finished engulfing the remaining landscape as the last of the day's light slipped away.  
“I don't see any need to be cheerful. It's pointless to pretend we still have what we don't.”  
“cha, no,” Xigbar shook his head, and tucked his feet up against the edge of the balcony he sat on, gesturing with his still lit cigarette “What's next, then. Giving up on hope? Might as well slit our wrists now, spill our blood all over the halls. Or icewater in your case.” The twitch of the blond's face was subtle, but rewarding. There was a hint of Even left in him yet. That was good.   
“We should get going. Xemnas got back today.”  
“Where was he?”  
“I think he was exploring how far we can go through the dark corridors.”  
“S'been almost a month. I was starting to wonder if he'd ever get back.”   
Green eyes turned on him, catching starlight and almost glowing.   
“Would you have missed him?”   
Before Xigbar could even fathom the question, Vexen had disappeared back into the ruins in a flash of white labcoat. 

 

They were all there, all six of them, sitting around a table. Xaldin is better than he was, less blank. He'd been drilling, returning to the mindlessness of physical training to distract himself from the lack of emotional stimulus; taking Xigbar's example of working with bodies and minds instead of dwelling on the lack of a heart. His braids were gone, ratted into long thin rolls instead, that were tied back simply instead of intricately pinned to keep the demons away. Zexion let his hair cover half his face, and doesn't bother brushing it away. Lexaeus rolled a puzzle cube over and over in his hands, not making eye contact with anyone. Vexen looked harried, and kept opening a note book in front of him, writing something, closing it, and setting his pencil down precisely, using the wings of his hair to hide his face while he writes. Xigbar knew he didn't look the same as he used to, either, for one thing he was sitting on the wall, not at the table. There is no tea or coffee, no jokes, no conversation, like there would have been less than a year ago.   
He didn't know if he missed it or not. He thought he did.   
“There are other worlds.” Xemnas' words were not entirely a surprise. There had been hints of them before; strange visitors to Master Ansem, things that just didn't belong in the Garden, books that talked about things that never happened as if they were nothing more than fact. “The darkness we have found paths through connects them all.”   
“Is that where you've been? Other worlds? You've seen them?” That was definitely a spark of Even's insatiable curiosity dying again behind Vexen's dispassionate eyes. Xigbar watched it, and wondered, if he had kept his heart, and if he was still Braig, how much it would hurt to watch that.   
“Yes. I have watched the death of worlds, even as the Garden is dying now, and watched the Heartless propagate.”  
Xigbar was struck with a sudden image of two small, rolly polly shadows going at it doggy style, while Xemnas took notes; and wished that he had something to hide his face in. Instead he covered his grin with a hand, and bit the inside of his lip, trying to focus on what Xemnas was saying.   
“What I have not seen is anyone else like us; bodies without hearts, that retain their strength, their personality, their purpose.”  
“Wait- you're being very specific, have you seen others?”  
“Yes. They are much like heartless, though they are not heartless. As far as I can tell they are much like us, except that they are mindless.” He raised a hand and a strange, creature, gray not black, and shimmering swirled into the room, moving like nothing so much as a wisp of smoke on a high wind.   
“You must have looked very hard to find the similaritys.” Zexion said dryly, with a small sniff.   
“They are both obvious and hidden. A truly remarkable thing.” They all studied the shimmering, dancing wisp of a creature for long moments. Xemnas spoke to it, as one would a dog, or a dull child.  
“You are dismissed.” It gave what could only be called a nod, with it's strange, hooded head, and swirled back into itself the same way it came. “We are not heartless, not of any kind, so we must conclude that we are something else. A person is made of a heart, a mind and a body.”  
“So which are we? Mind or body?” Dilan asked. “I'd say body, myself.”  
“We are all that is left.” the amber eyed man said, looking displeased at being interrupted. “Mind and body, lacking hearts, the remnants of what we were when the heartless killed us.”   
a brief shiver went around the room at the memories that called up. It wasn't fear, precisely, but it was the next best thing.   
Xigbar cleared his throat. “Not to be a jerk, but we kinda knew that.” They all stared at him, and he quirked the eyebrow over his good eye. “Do you have a point, or are we just reviewing?”   
“We have no hearts, no emotions- just enough memories of such things to know that we miss them, and want them back, correct? To reclaim what the darkness and the Heartless have taken.”  
There was a general murmur of assent.   
“We can't go back.” Xemnas said “But we [u]can[/u] go forward. I propose we find the light that is at the end of every darkness. There, we will reclaim our hearts.”  
A brief silence filled the room.   
“I already made my decision to follow you.” Zexion said quietly, not meeting the intense amber gaze of the other man. “I suppose I will follow further.”  
“No matter what.” Lexaeus agreed.   
“... Yes.”  
“Damn it, Eve-Vexen, why?” Even and Xeahnort hadn't gotten along; if Xemnas and Vexen could have hated each other, chances were they would have. But there he was, agreeing to follow the man.   
“What choice do we have, Xigbar? At least he has a plan!”   
“I had hoped that you would agree, Xigbar. In the past you have been so very helpful to me.”   
He looked away, scratching under his eye patch uncomfortably.   
“Do you not wish to be whole again?” Brilliant amber eyes bore down on him, Xemnas pressing close, almost forcing him to look up slightly at the other man.   
“You think you can make that happen?”  
“I think we all can, if we work together.” All that beauty, all that force of personality... Xigbar wondered if Xemnas had the same focused passion that Xehanort had displayed. He took a deep breath, then breathed out, looking away.  
“Fine. Yes.” Fuck, but he needed a cigarette.   
“Then we will move through the darkness. Use the darkness that sits inside us now, and become whole once again.” 

 

“The light on the other side of darkness.” Xigbar muttered to himself, and snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray beside his bed. That didn't even sound hard; I mean, it would be easy to spot, wouldn't it? All they had to do was stop sitting around bemoaning their loss and start doing something. Travel to other worlds to look for it. That sounded kind of appealing, actually. He kind of liked the feel of the place between worlds.   
He heard a faint noise, the sound he recognized as darkness filling a place that had only held air before; and now held a body. For a frightening instant his mind expanded and he [i]felt[/i] everything in the room, it's mass, it's shape, and all of the spaces in between. The figure that stood at the darkened foot of his bed.   
“Xaldin?” he questioned.   
“No.” the rich voice was unmistakable, even as the form of the taller man moved closer the bed moving as he crawled onto it.   
“Xemnas? Did you want somethi-” his words were cut off by a brush of lips over his. “What are you doing?” he pushed up against the pillows stacked at his headboard, but was stopped by gentle fingers on his face before he got any further.   
“We cannot feel, Xigbar; but our bodies feel...” Xemnas traced his fingers down the scar on the other man's face, across the line of the neck, and down his chest, making him shiver. “They feel so much.”   
“Nor-”  
“Shhh.” lips pressed against his, breaking off what he was going to say. “Now is not the time for speaking, Xigbar. Give yourself over to me... I promise, you will receive more than you can imagine in return.”   
“What are you talking about?” his back arched unthinkingly into the other man's touch.   
“Don't fight. Don't think. I need you. I need your help.”   
“What's that got to do with... holy...” he groaned. His confusion was doing nothing to stop his body from responding.   
“We will regain ourselves, no matter what.”   
“Yeah, you said, but what does that have to do with-” it was no kind of a situation to hold a serious discussion. He found himself wanting to simply agree. He could not imagine how the silver haired man was managing such eloquent arguments while sucking him off. Actually, unfair seemed like a much more accurate assessment.   
“You helped me before; help me again- we're wandering. They need to be led, to find the way.”   
And to his surprise, he found himself agreeing. 

 

Which, as they reformed themselves, organizing themselves into a strange sort of hierarchy to help divide tasks, was how he ended up as number two, he supposed. Because he was willing to simply back Xemnas up, as he had promised. Despite his willingness to follow Xemnas, Zexion questioned everything, needing to make up his own mind, though he could be prodded to following if approached properly.   
Using the code names made it easier to distance themselves from who they'd been. Sometimes, it was hard to even remember that they had been someone else once. The more time that passed, the more unused memories of emotions faded. The Other names were Other men, who had hearts, and who had lived, and loved, and laughed. They weren't them. They were nothing but shells, filled with darkness. Souls without cores. Nothing. No one. Nobodies. 

Of course, they still had personalities.

“Xemnas!” shouted Xigbar irritably, storming into the common room.   
“What is it?”   
“These uniforms you've come up with! Seriously! What are we, a cult?” Shirtless, he flapped the long leather coat one hand.   
“You wore a uniform at the Garden....”  
“I wore a -suit- not a... gimp get-up.”   
“It's practical. We should be anonymous when we visit other worlds. The coats and hoods make us interchangeable.”  
“We'll look more menacing than we already do!”  
“We could show up in bunny costumes, and still get the same reaction.” Zexion was already wearing the coat, adjusting the zipper to a comfortable place below his collarbone, and letting the hood pulls swing. The young man crossed his arms over his chest, getting used to the creak of the leather. “You know that best of us all. You're still trying to act like a human.”  
“And I'm getting better at it. In crowds, nobody notices.”  
“That you're nobody.”   
“Ye- damn it squirt; that's not the point.”   
“Does the point have some thing to do with why you're standing around shirtless in leather pants?” Xaldin asked wearily. He too was wearing the long, hooded coat that had been provided. Honestly, Xigbar wasn't sure where Xemnas had gotten them.   
“Ah-” distracted by the thought that under that expanse of leather, Xaldin was also likely shirtless, and wrapped in leather; his annoyance faded to the normal dullness that covered everything that had been emotion. “No, I guess not.” He shrugged the coat on and fiddled with the zipper for a few moments. He turned to Xemnas and flicked the chain draped across his chest. “You had your lunch money stolen as a kid, didn't you?”  
“What?” 

 

The next conflict was somewhat bigger. Once again, Xemnas disappeared for weeks, leaving them mostly to their own devices. When he returned, he called them all to the common area immediately, coat still scuffed from his travels.   
“I found a place for us. A place where we can build a new doorway.”  
“A doorway?”  
“The door on the other side of the darkness.” breathed Xaldin.   
“But leave Hollow Bastion?” Vexen demanded, confused. How easily the cursed name came to mind now. “Live somewhere else?”  
“We already travel to many different worlds; but living in one has caused us to form unnecessary attachment. Between the worlds we can create our own place in darkness, and everything will become easier.” Amber eyes flicked over to gold and Xigbar sighed, but nodded.  
“He's right. It's time to let this place go.”   
He didn't expect his option to hold that much water with Vexen, but the hunched shoulders relaxed, a little.   
“I suppose. It's foolish to pretend attachment, anyhow.”   
“That's right.” Xigbar nodded. “I don't see any reason we should stay here any longer, right?”   
Though it was rather like locking the stable after the last horse was stolen, they sealed the entrances to the labs, and left for the new world- or rather the world-that-wasn't-a-world, that Xemnas had found for them.   
The city they found waiting for them; the castle, ready for occupation, how easy it was to slide from place to place in this world, and the easy paths to many worlds; it did seem to be the perfect place for them. The world liked them, provided them with what they needed, the castle responding to their needs and wills. And that was before Xemnas revealed that he had the first hints as to [u]how[/u] to recover their hearts.

Though what Kingdom Hearts [i]was[/i] was a trifle unclear.   
Was it a place? Was it an object? A gate? A world heart? The heart of all the worlds? A place where all hearts went, in the end?

But whatever it was, it [i]whispered[/i] to Xemnas, promising him everything, which he, in turn, promised to his motley followers. Obsession was not emotion, as was a thing of mental stimulation, rather than emotions, and Xemnas was obsessed. 

It was several more years before anything came along to distract him from finding the way to Kingdom Hearts. Despite the stars winking out as worlds were destroyed, the progress was slow. Heartless begat heartless, and the shades of nobodys filled the world-that-wasn't, but in all their explorations, they didn't find any other creatures like themselves. Perhaps it was something in the explosion, not the loss of their hearts that made them what they were. Emotions or not, everyone was sick of Vexen prodding and testing them, trying to figure out what made them different.

Xemnas insisted that there would be more. That there had to be. He numbered them, starting with himself, because he was leading, one through six- for Organization purposes. Further codenames. Xigbar couldn't help but wonder if their codenames really [i]needed[/i] codenames, but let it go. It was kind of cool to be number two. Though he was kind of glad that he was the only one with any kind of taste for bathroom humor. Two kept things moving when One was gone, or out of it, and Three backed him up. Four was never home. Five and Six (pick up sticks) kept to themselves as well. Sometimes, in the night that didn't end, in the world that wasn't, couldn't be, and never had been, Xigbar wondered what Zexion thought about being assigned the highest number; the lowest 'rank' when he [i]knew[/i] that the power over people's minds that the squirt could command when he chose too was almost terrifying even for a nobody. 

Of course they didn't mean much, though it did, after one drunken night, become a handy way for identifying personal items, marked simply with roman numerals. 

But that all changed; and quite suddenly, when they found another. Suddenly the hierarchy that they had developed among themselves was so much more important. 

Six had become seven, and everything changed. 

It was Zexion and Lexaeus that found him, but it was Xemnas who took a special interest.   
Just looking at the youth didn't show anything. His hair was a pale, luminescent blue, though that was probably the result of the same transformation they'd gone through. His delicate features were marred with a par of scars that crossed each other over the bridge of his nose. His eyes were golden, so pale his pupils stood out starkly against the iris. Unlike them, he was found naked, skin pale in the starlight of the moonless night. But there was no doubt to what he was. 

Nobody. Just like themselves.

The young man's name was Sai, and he told them that everything he was seemed far, far away. Like it didn't matter. Sai would give it up, he concluded, until whatever the missing part of him was could be found, which would bring everything back into focus. He took the name Saïx at Xemnas's suggestion. 

The part of Xigbar that remembered being Braig the best was almost jealous at the way the newly named 'Seven' became a secondary obsession, second only to Kingdom Hearts- perhaps because of the new nobody's uncanny link to it. When Saïx's calm competency took it's place at Xemnas' side as a [i]chosen[/i] second, rather than simply the second in the chain of command. Jealousy was an emotion that he was perfectly willing to let lie in the hazy dust. Besides, he couldn't say he really minded. It gave him more time to think. 

He liked to think about what would happen when they regained their hearts. What would happen then? Would he still be able to ignore gravity, call guns from nowhere, and find his way between worlds? Or would he simply be Braig again; an aging, tactless scientist? Sometimes, when he tried to sleep the thoughts would come to him, whether he was alone or wrapped around Xaldin in the aftermath of a lustful encounter. If this life, this strange existence was what happened after the darkness, what would happen after that?


	2. In Which there is Drinking and Bad decisions are made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short story found in the same file as After Dark, about Zexion's birthday

A garment bag was tossed on top of Zexion's books, and he looked up.  
“What is this?”  
“It's clothing, squirt.” Xigbar was out of uniform, wearing a rumpled black suit instead, tie at half mast like a businessman at the end of a long day. “Get dressed.”  
“Why?”  
“I got a promise to keep.”   
“What?”  
The older man leaned forward on the table and grinned. “What day is it?”  
“What?” the younger man repeated. “What does that have to do with anything?”  
“Congratulations, squirt, you're eighteen. Well, nineteen, but we've been busy for a while. Anyhow, I said I was gonna take you out, and I'm not backing down.”   
Zexion folded gloved hands and glared. “No.”  
“No? Is that anything to say to a superior who only wants to see you have a good time?”   
The young nobody considered this for several moments.  
“Yes.”   
“Too bad. The suit goes on or I put it on you myself.” He waggled a finger at the younger man. “And don't think I can't. Do'ya know what I had to [u]do[/u] to pry Vexen out of the lab for this?”   
“You have put effort in.” He opened the garment bag and peered at the suit. It wasn't anywhere near as disreputable looking as Xigbar's. “I suppose I can give you a few hours...”  
“Damn straight.”   
“... if you could [i]leave[/i] so I could change?” 

Coming into the entrance hall of the castle, Zexion wasn't terribly surprised to find everyone standing there, waiting, similarly attired in some semblance of normal clothing, mostly resembling suits. Xemnas was still wearing his coat, over that, but unzipped. He was also tapping his foot, looking frustrated.  
“This is a waste of time, Two.” he grumbled. “I do not see what this sentimental display will do for us.”  
“It'll make me feel better- and I stand by my threat; I can be really annoying when I put my mind to it.” Xigbar flashed a grin and raised his eyebrow above his good eye. “Now loose the coat, mighty leader.”   
“It's pointless.” the amber eyed nobody repeated, but took off the drape of leather, before straightening his tie. After all this time, it was odd to wear one again.  
Grinning, Xigbar turned and hands on his hips, studied his 'troops'. Yep, just like the old days. This is the way it should have been.   
“Alright!” he cheered. “Let's go get smashed!” And he opened a corridor.   
“Can nobodys even GET drunk?” Muttered someone. He suspected it was Vexen. 

The bar was crowded enough that Xigbar didn't feel bad about using the slightly unnerving effect that he had on people to get a large table. Hell, he'd started to unnerve people after he'd lost his eye, why not use it? To everyone's horror, he bought shots for everyone to start out with.   
“You don't start someone out on [i]shots[/i] Xigbar.” Lexaeus said in horror.   
“He can take it.”   
“Let's just get this over with.” muttered Zexion, and reached out, grabbing one of the glasses from the tray, taking the shot and slamming it back. He shook his head at the bitter taste, but that was it. “Not a big deal.”  
“Cheers! Happy birthday, squirt!” And, to the slate haired nobody's surprise, everyone took Xigbar's suggestion, raising the tiny glasses, and following suit.   
Xemnas coughed, and rubbed at his eyes.  
“Why” the dark skinned man asked. “Are we drinking preservative-level alcohol?”  
“You're a wuss.”   
“I'm...”  
“Unable to hold your liquor, I'd bet.”  
Xemnas's mouth paused, open, unable to resist rising to the challenge. He was certainly capable of doing anything Xigbar was.   
Zexion took that opportunity to signal the waitress.  
“We're probably going to need food of some sort over here.”

“It's not bad tasting, but, I really don't see the point.” the slate haired boy lifted the tiny glass cup and knocked back another shot.   
“He has been drinking, right?”whispered Xigbar to Xaldin  
“Yeah, shot for shot.”   
“I'm drunk. Xemnas is drunk. Why in hell isn't he?”   
“Guess he's got a good tolerance.”   
“I bet he's cheating somehow.”   
“How?”  
“I dunno.”   
Another two rounds went past.   
“You know what we need?”  
“What?”  
“Tattoos! That'd be so badass.”  
“Tell me you didn't just say that.”   
“No, really, I'd look awesome with a tattoo.” he rubbed his arm. “Maybe something on my bicep here.”   
“A little late for a midlife crisis, isn't it?” Vexen asked dryly, still nursing a glass of white wine.  
“Don't be such a girl, Vex.”  
“Bite me. I'm not the one talking about getting matching tattoos.”   
“I think it's a fine idea.” Zexion said, unpredictably. “Makes us like a family.”  
“Or a cult.” muttered Xigbar.  
“Hey, it was your idea.” Xaldin poked him.   
“Yeah it was!” Xigbar said, draining his beer mug and slamming it down. “So who's with me!? I'm gonna get II tattooed right here-” he ran his fingers across his bicep. “Because you know what? The Organization is awesome!” He went to toast, discovered his mug was empty and refilled it.   
“You're drunk.” Xaldin laughed, going to tap his nose and missing.  
“So're you.”   
Cups and glasses were drained all around the table.   
Face flushed, Xemnas of all people patted the table to get everyone else's attention,.  
“Why don't we?”   
“What?”  
“Get tattoos. They don't hurt, really, and it would be a further bond.”   
Xaldin raised one, bushy eyebrow. “You have a tattoo?”  
The silver haired man nodded, almost smiling.   
Everyone remained silent for long moments. At last, the dread locked nobody touched his temple. “Ah, yes, I remember now.”   
“He's got a tattoo and you've seen it?!” Xigbar said, shocked “I haven't seen it, where is it What is it?!”  
“It's not important.” Xaldin said dismissively, refilling his cup. “Y'know what, yeah- I'm all for it.”

It took a while to find a tattoo parlor who was willing to put up with the invasion of six drunken men, even with munny in hand.   
In the end they had the chance to go to several worlds in their search; but they were determined, (and drunk) and finally found an open shop. Xaldin, Xigbar, and Lexaeus all got their numbers in roman numerals on their biceps. After some dithering, Xemnas had a 'I' put at the base of his neck. At much urging, Vexen took his turn in the chair, consenting to a small marking as well.  
“Shch.” Vexen made a pained noise and touched his fingers against the sore area on his left breastbone gingerly. “This is possibly the stupidest thing I've done in my life.”   
“I can't believe you did it.” Zexion shook his head.   
“Yeah, little Zexion's too much of a wuss to get a tattoo.” teased Xigbar, poking the boy in the cheek. He flushed.   
“I am not!” He defiantly poked the older man in his sensitive, newly inked skin. “I'm not 'little' and I'm not too much of a wuss for anything.” He glared at the tattoo artist, who raised an eyebrow. The young man pulled back his hair, and pointed to his cheekbone, just below his eye. “Here. A roman numeral like the rest of them. Six. Not too big.”  
“On your face, kid? That's gonna sting like-”  
“Do it.” Holding his hair up out of the way, he turned to present his hairless cheek, face flushed with annoyance.   
“Who'm I to argue?” the man shrugged. As the tattoo gun raised to touch the youngest nobody's face, they all held their breaths, expecting him to stop it; to pick another location; something, but he didn't not even flinching as the needle pierced his flesh again and again. The tattoo wasn't big, as he instructed, not more than a half inch tall; and probably less. The artist even gave him a small clip to hold his hair back for a bit to keep it off the sore flesh. 

“Well Xigbar; you got me drunk and tattoo'd. Have you discharged all potential desire to give me a 'birthday'?”   
“Oh [i]fuck[/i] yeah.” the scarred man grinned. “I just gotta come up with something for next year-”  
“Oh dear god.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was suddenly struck with a desire to read some of my old works, and you know what, this one wasn't half bad. As I said in the description, the file was listed as being from 2007, which was shortly after I got into the fandom.   
> I think I wrote several short stories with the same basic 'somebodies' for the Organization. 
> 
> complete with the original notes: 
> 
> Braig-into-Xigbar: Mad at himself for having talked his friends into helping. Hair now ashy-black instead of dark brown, and the gray stripes are wider. Seems to take it on himself to get them to display as much almost emotion as possible.   
> Dilan-into-Xaldin: seemingly depressed and morose. His braids turn to dreadlocks. Comes alive when fighting.   
> Even-into-Vexen: Still withdrawing. Like Braig, he blames himself for leading them into this. His hair is finer, his coloration more pronounced. He has an instinctively good control of his element, in him it seems the most assimilated.   
> Ienzo-into-Zexion: Hair has gone from black to slate gray. Possibly the most distressed at the loss of his heart, and with it the possibility of growth.   
> Aeleus-into-Lexaeus: His hair is now wirey and stands back from his head.   
> Xehanort-into-Ansem-into-Xemnas : he's got charizma. Bags of it. But not a lot of respect. ... okay, I have no idea what's going on in his head. I think he just uses what he knows works, and he knows people respond positively to physical attention. 
> 
> Other notes: Don't ask how they have pulses when they don't have heartbeats. It's a metaphysical thing. Yeah, it's a little confusing, how it jumps back and forth at first. I tried to go back and put it in order after I was done, and it didn't make any more sense.


End file.
